What the Howrse is Going on Here!
by Kinola
Summary: Bobby Jim's life is changed forever when he enters the fantastical world of Howrse. Follow him and his pony Mr. Fleabag as he strives to be the best. Or not. A satirical take on the virtual horse-playing game.
1. Welcome to Howrse, We Got Fun and Games

**Disclaimer: Howrse was created by Owlient. I own Bobby Jim.**

* * *

Groaning, Bobby Jim opened his eyes and slowly sat up. He was in some kind of…horse stall, with fresh hay covering the floor and a feeding trough in the corner of one room. He heard the sounds of hooves click-clocking from outside the stall door, and smelled a faint scent of…horse manure. Ugh.

Bobby Jim slowly got to his feet, holding his arms out to steady himself. "Where the heck am I?" he wondered aloud. He last remembered playing _Grand Theft Auto_ with his friends, Chauncey, Wilmer, and Artie, when he heard his younger sister Lula Lynn calling for him to come to the computer room to help her with… _something_. Whatever that _something_ was, he couldn't remember. He went in, saw his sister sitting at the computer, wearing cowboy boots and a sundress…and that was it. His mind was totally blank after that part.

 _So this is what it must be like to have a hangover,_ Bobby Jim thought, rubbing the sides of his head with his fingers. _Now I can actually relate to Uncle Jimmy Bob._

Bobby Jim groaned again. He couldn't remember what he'd been doing with his sister, he felt like he was going to barf, and worst of all, he smelled horse manure. How could this get _any_ worse?

As though to answer his unvoiced question, the stall door suddenly slid open. Bobby Jim recoiled at the bright light coming in from outside, using his hands to cover his eyes. A high-pitched voice boomed at him. "Oh, good, you're awake!" it said.

Bobby Jim pulled his hands away to find… _a giant talking monkey!_

"AAAAH! Demon!" Bobby Jim cried, pointing a finger at the monkey. The monkey had whitish fur and wore a red T-shirt.

The monkey frowned. "Of course not, you silly goose," it said, "I'm not a demon. I'm Ow. I'm the mascot for Owlient, and I'm here to introduce you to the wonderful world of Howrse!"

"How...arse?" Bobby Jim pronounced. _Ha _ha...arse,__ _he thought._

Ow walked up to Bobby Jim and bitch-slapped him. As Bobby Jim yelped in pain and fell over, Ow the Monkey stated in a matter-of-fact voice, "Ah, ah. A big rule on Howrse is that you can't swear."

"Sorry," Bobby Jim muttered. "Anyway, what is this Howrse thing? Is it a type of medication?"

"Of course not!" Ow the Monkey said. "Howrse is an amazing, enchanting website, where you can raise your very own horses, compete in races, and run your own equestrian center."

"That sounds really boring," said Bobby Jim.

"Well, yes, but only if you're on there every single day. Anyway, it's about time I get you to pick out the foal you're going to care for!" Ow the Monkey clapped his hands before leading Bobby Jim out of the stall and over to a nearby paddock. Foals of every shape and color cantered around, ate food, slept standing up, or pooped.

"These are all the foals you can choose from," Ow the Monkey explained. "Each one is a breed of horse that actually exists in real life. You can pick whichever one you want and name it whatever you what, but be warned! Once you pick the foal you're going to raise, you can't change your mind. Go ahead. The choice is yours."

Bobby Jim's eyes skimmed over each foal until they came upon a mangy, flea-ridden Shetland foal with a dapple gray coat. "I want that one," he announced, pointing to it.

"Uh...okay." With a wave of its paw, Ow the Monkey summoned the little colt out of the paddock. It walked clumsily up to Bobby Jim and stared up at him with dead eyes. Ow the Monkey eyed the pony with derision. _"That's_ the one you want to keep?"

"Yes," Bobby Jim answered.

"Are you sure? Because I could tweak the rule a little and let you pick another one. One that looks...healthier."

"I want that foal," Bobby Jim stated. "When I saw it, it made me think of myself."

"...Okay." Ow the Monkey pulled out a piece of paper from nowhere and showed it to Bobby Jim. "Now, before you can begin caring for your pony, I want you to put down your information so that your account can be created. This is required for _all_ players."

"Can do." Bobby Jim pulled a pencil out of nowhere and wrote down his login name, his password (twice), his e-mail address, his date of birth, his home address, his school, his height, his weight, his clothing size, his shoe size, his blood type, and the last four digits of his social security number. Once everything was filled out, Ow the Monkey rolled up the piece of paper, stuck it behind him, and snapped his fingers. A door formed out of thin air and opened wide for Bobby Jim and his foal.

"Congratulations, Bobby Jim," Ow the Monkey declared. "You are now officially a member of Howrse."

"Oh, goody!" Bobby Jim cried, stepping towards the door. But Ow the Monkey pulled him back.

"Hold on, now!" he said. "There's one more thing you have to do, and that is to name your horse." The Shetland pony chose that moment to pee. "What kind of name did you have in mind?"

Bobby Jim thought for three seconds before declaring, "I'm going to name him Mr. Fleabag."

"'Mr. Fleabag'?" Ow the Monkey frowned in puzzlement.

"Uh-huh." Bobby Jim nodded his head. "He looks like a Mr. Fleabag to me."

Ow the Monkey sighed. "Okay, Bobby Jim," he said, "you need to listen closely. You and your horse are free to begin your account, but—"

"Yahoo!" Bobby Jim cried. "Come on, Mr. Fleabag, let's go!" Bobby Jim raced towards the door, only to smack into its frame. He stumbled for a few minutes before shaking himself and running through the door. Mr. Fleabag was still standing in his puddle of urine. Ow the Monkey gave the foal a slap on the rump and it trotted after Bobby Jim.

"Eh. I'll talk to him later," Ow the Monkey said after a few moments of silence. He turned to walk away. "Now to get me some Caffè corretto..."

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 **What will Bobby Jim do now that he has an account on Howrse? What's wrong with Mr. Fleabag? Will Ow the Monkey get some Caffè corretto? Tune in to the next chapter to find out!**


	2. EC Sweet EC

**Disclaimer: I own Bobby Jim and Mr. Fleabag. They don't exist on Howrse, but there's a donkey on there named Bobby Jim.**

* * *

Bobby Jim was very happy with his new foal Mr. Fleabag. The two walked side by side as they made their way into the world of Howrse. The sights they saw were incredible. Competitions were held. Players rode their horses over mountains, across beaches, and through forests. Auctions were held. Horses were mated to their parents or siblings. Players down on their knees begging for black market items or other players' horses.

A player walked by with a black pegasus. "Hello," said the player, "are you lost? Do you need help?"

"No, Bobby Jim said, even though he was lying. "I'm not lost. And I don't need help with this place. I can do just fine. Mind your own beeswax!"

The player shook her head. "Suit yourself," she sighed, then turned away.

"Stupid trainer," Bobby Jim grumbled, "asking _me_ for help." Mr. Fleabag snapped at a fly that hovered too close to his nose.

Then Bobby Jim stopped. Mr. Fleabag stumbled into him. "Oh, wow," said Bobby Jim. "Look at that dump."

The "dump" happened to be a ramshackle stable surrounded by weeds and wild grass. There was a rancid smell coming from inside it. Bobby Jim stared at the place with increasing interest. "It's so...amazing," he exclaimed.

Just then, Ow the Monkey appeared out of nowhere, a Caffè corretto in one hand. "Ah, hello again, Bobby Jim!" he said, pretending to sound cheerful. "How's it going?"

"It's going great!" Bobby Jim replied cheerfully. "Mr. Fleabag and I have a special bond going on. Also, I found this place." He pointed to the stable.

"Ah, that's a...good start," Ow said, trying to sound kind. "In fact, with a little bit of hard work, this place could be an equestrian center."

"E-quest- _tree_ -an cen- _taur_ ," Bobby Jim enunciated. "What is that?"

"It's a place that you can board your horses at," Ow explained. "They have stalls, hoses, meadows, and race courses. You can board a horse there for as long as you want, and you can grow crops, create items in the workshops, and participate in lessons for money."

"Wow, that sounds _really_ boring," Bobby Jim declared. "Like, really, really, _really_ boring."

 _Goodness gracious,_ Ow thought to himself, _why are these new players so dim-witted?_ "Well, it's not entirely boring. You have to keep the equestrian center in check, for one thing. You also have to provide food and supplies if you want more boarders. And most importantly, you can decide how much money your boarders have to pay you when they want to stay here, and how long you want them to stay for."

"Again, that's kinda boring." Mr. Fleabag sneezed loudly then, spraying mucus across the ground. Ow began to regret having medicines booted from Howrse and then allowing the horses to stay healthy until after age 25.

"Well, if it makes you feel a little bit better about this," Ow said, trying hard to ignore poor little Mr. Fleabag, "then I'll have you know that you can board your horses at your own equestrian center for _free_."

Bobby Jim's eyes bulged out in surprise. "I love free things!" He pulled a pair of clippers and a rake from nowhere and got to work. In a matter of minutes, the run-down equestrian center looked spic-and-span. The place had three stalls, two meadows (one for horses, the other for growing crops), and one workshop.

"Wow," Ow breathed. "That's...incredible."

"I know. I have a knack for cleaning things. Just check out my room," Bobby Jim stated proudly, never mind that his room was currently a pigsty.

"Okay!" Ow took a sip of his corretto before he continued. "Now that you have an equestrian center, you can decide on the place's name, how much a stay there will cost, and how long people can stay for."

"Okay, then!" Bobby Jim thought hard, then decided to name the equestrian center after his favorite restaurant. It was now known as **The Chi-Chi's Boarding Place Thing**. It would cost 199 equus to board a horse there, and people could board their horses for no more or less than 60 days.

"All done," Bobby Jim declared.

"Very good. As a reward, here." Ow handed him 25,000 equus. "Don't just splurge that willy-nilly, all right? Use that money to buy things to keep your horses and your boarders' horses content, like bedding and mashes."

"Got it." Bobby Jim went off while Ow watched Mr. Fleabag and tried to comfort him as best he could. Two hours later, Bobby Jim returned with three Box 1* stalls, some flax bedding, a couple bags of apple seeds, mashes, hoses, water troughs, and wood. Lots and lots of wood. With Ow's help, he set them exactly where they needed to go. The seeds were planted, the stalls were done up with bedding, hoses, and troughs, mashes placed where he could keep an eye on it (since mash tended to go fast no matter where you went) and the wood was left aside for...later.

"My place is looking ki... _awesome_ ," Bobby Jim announced, reminding himself about the "No Swearing" rule. Then, he yawned. "Wow, I'm getting _real_ tired. Day one here was _super_ long and _super_ exhausting."

"Okay, sure." Ow shrugged. "Be sure to get your horse in a stall before you turn in, all right? Your foal needs some rest if you want him to grow up."

"Got it." Ow the Monkey left as Bobby Jim picked up Mr. Fleabag and deposited him in a stall. After that, Bobby Jim literally hit the hay.

* * *

 **On Howrse, the better horses usually have inbreeding in their family trees. It's not just between siblings, but with parents and their children. How f-ed up is that?**

 **Also, medicines were a thing on Howrse years ago. I'm guessing somewhere between 2008 and 2009. I remember, because I was there.**

 **Hopefully, it won't take me so frickin' long to update this story.**


End file.
